


In Full Color: R6S Headcanons and oneshots

by ImperialTrash



Series: In Full Color [1]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Autism, Gen, Headcanon, Ice Cream, Overreaction, autistic!Jäger, just nonsense, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-06-05 13:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15172145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialTrash/pseuds/ImperialTrash
Summary: Some personal headcanons about the operators to make them more human, and to expand their characters. More to be added.





	1. Ela: Ice Cream

Ela never enjoyed memories of her childhood. Too many times where she was always in the shadow of her elder sibling, too many times where her father’s rod came down to strike her. She doesn’t even remember most of her school friends, if she had any, anyways.

The only fond memory of her family or younger life was the ice cream trips that Jan would take the girls after a grueling training session. Really, it was the only enjoyable memory Ela shared with her family that she recalled. 

Those days when the warm sun came out and the weather was simply just beautiful, they were her favorite days to get ice cream. Even in the gloomier gray overcasts, the ice cream shop always looked like a beacon of hope to Ela. A beacon that there’s a reason behind such hardships.

Fast forward twenty years, and her love for the frozen treat still hasn’t faltered. 

It was an uneventful day at Hereford. A large portion of the team went off to some mission in Mexico, and only a handful remained at base. James Porter always was able to make the best with what he had, since all the SAS boys were gone. Good thing he got along with most others.

When he travelled to the common room and decided to grab a snack from the fridge, he found nothing appetizing. Some left over food, takeout, and whatever weird food the French ate. He pulled the handle to the freezer, and that’s when all he saw was a wave of ice cream containers. 

He groaned, falling to the floor. James examined the containers, all different flavors and different brands. “What the bloody fuck?!”

He picked up a tub and threw it in anger. On every lid, the name of Ela was written in black marker, stuck on a piece of paper held by tape. Hell, some of them were already open, having half eaten amounts still inside, or worse a spoon willfully forgotten inside. No wonder Rainbow was buying new spoons to replace missing ones all the time, Ela forgot them in her ice cream collection.

“Good Christ, no wonder the girl is only a 40 kilos wet,” James muttered. Picking up a tub, he looked inside and saw a frozen spoon covered in small icicles. With a pull to the handle, the spoon broke at the neck and remained stuck in the frozen chocolate treat. 

The sorting was easier said than done. James tried to figure how she was able to fit nearly 20 containers of ice cream into a freezer only a foot long and wide. The struggle to fit the eleventh one was noticeable from the common room, which thankfully was empty. That is until, Ela walked into the room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Cleaning up your damn ice cream, is this all you eat?” James said, shoving another tub into the freezer. 

“No, and don’t touch my ice cream, kurwa!” Ela shoved away James and began to stack and rearrange all the ice cream in a neatly order. James had to admit, even though chaos was her home her orderliness was impeccable. She finally finished and spun around to the British man. It didn’t help that he was the same height as her, because those icy blue eyes peered into his very soul. 

“Don’t touch my ice cream again.”

With that, she took a random tub from the freezer and left the common room. Once he was sure she was gone, James started guffawing. It was strong enough for Ela to hear nearly across the building, her ears and face turning red as she stuck a spoonful of pistachio ice cream into her mouth.

“Jesus Christ, ‘stay away from my ice cream’! God, what a laugh.”


	2. Headcanon: Doc and autistic Jäger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Jäger is on the spectrum, and not many Rainbow operators know about it. Doc discovers it going through his records and overreacts.
> 
> Jäger’s psychological profile hints at him being a little more socially difficult and intellectual. There’s a few threads discussing it online and I thought it was interesting. My close nephew has atypical autism and thought it was really cool that Ubisoft, while not confirming, hints it :)

Gustave wasn’t one to delve into the medical pasts of the operators of Rainbow, nor disclose anything information they give him. Being a physician himself, he respected the privacy between patient and doctor, like Priest and confessor.

 

Despite his goodwill, Gustave read the medical files on every operator every two months to see how they’d improve—or worsen— from their childhoods or teen years. This meant diving into their civilian records, checking from doctors of years prior. Most of the time he just skimmed or skipped large chunks of their histories, since they weren’t worth reading entirely considering the usually normal childhoods they had. He’s learned some embarrassing things, sure, but it didn’t make his view on anyone different. 

 

Well, different is pushing it. Ever since he read that James had gotten a few cases of the clap from one too many women of the night, the Parisian made sure to wash his hands often when meeting with him.

 

Going through the GSG-9 medical records was routine at this point. Many times he simply skipped over most of their details. Gustave was confident they didn’t change at all.

 

He had to check Marius’ file again after some time. It was nothing extraordinary besides some battlefield injuries and the occasional broken bone from his youth. He flipped through the pages as usual, skimming or skipping the meaty paragraphs of reports and—

 

_ “—autism—“ _

 

Gustave flipped a few pages before he even realized he saw the word. He paused, flipping the pages back and tracing the print until he found the word again, reading carefully.

 

“ _ Notes _ :

 

_ Through my studies with the young lad, Marius Streicher seems to be on the autism spectrum. It’s not surprising, I should think. He’s extremely bright in anything involving heavy thinking for his age, but his developmental skills suggest he has a hard time understanding social interactions and whatnot.  _

 

_ He doesn’t display all signs we normally associate with autism, such as lack of want of social interaction and trouble communicating, which draws me to conclude Marius is an atypical case, possibly on the high functioning side. While it may come to a shock his parents, I don’t believe he will be too much trouble to raise. His formative years will be the toughest, as that’s the period where we all go through social and hormonal changes. As long as he finds his talent, I think he’ll improve the lives of those around him for the better.  _

__ Dr. Rudolf Gorman.” _ _

 

 

Shocking, that was the only word to come up from this revelation. He closed the file and peered at his computer monitor, quickly opening up a browser and typing out his new research of the night. 

^^^

 

The next day started with a blur until he had his morning coffee and cigarette, a habit the doctor only just starting to go away. He spent the entire night researching all he could about autism, hopeful to accommodate his comrades condition. Gustave went out to search for Marius, scouring HQ from top to bottom.

 

In his frantic searching, Gustave went to the barracks, knocking impatiently on Jäger’s dorm. 

 

No answer.

 

The sudden memory of a headline about sudden loud noises came into mind, how autistic people usually react. Gustave flinched, and knocked more gently on the wooden door **.**

 

he heard the smoky voice of James peek his head out “Lookin’ for someone?”

 

“I’m looking for Jäger, have you seen him?”

 

“Saw him leave for the Workshop, check there. Why you lookin’ for him anyways, he sick?”

 

Gustave didn’t say goodbye as he quickly flew past the Brit, the wind behind him reeking of coffee and cigarettes. James scoffed and went back inside.

 

The workshop is where most of the operators improved or worked on their tools and gadgets. And today apparently, every damn op and their mother was inside. The loud clanging nod hammers, screwdrivers, saws, torches, anything was enough to make him go deaf. He looked around, not able to see the German anywhere. 

 

He walked past a few operators as they waved hello, but recoiled or scoured when Gustave didn’t pay them any heed. Now, his only focus was Jäger.

 

By some miracle he found him, tinkering with his ADS. Gustave quickly ran behind him and grabbed his shoulder gently. Marius startled, turning around and smiling when he saw Gustave. “Gustave _mein_ _freund_ , what brings you here?”

 

“Marius, we have to get you out of here, it’s not safe for you,” Gustave recoiled when he heard a particularly loud bang looking immediately at Marius. “Now.”

 

“But why, I’m working on—“

 

“Now, Marius!” 

 

Marius didn’t think anything from the raise of his voice, and complied. He wiped his hands from oil and leisurely faced Gustave. “What’s the big ruckus about?”

 

Gustave lead him away from the workshop quickly enough that most people didn’t even see him leave. Once away from the workshop on the hallway to Marius’ room Gustave spoke up. “We can no longer have you there without a supervisor, it’s too much of a strain to you.”

 

“What,” Marius stopped in his tracks. “Too much of a strain, what on Earth do you mean?”

 

“Look Marius, I’m looking out for you, that’s all I’m doing. So I forbid you to go back inside that noisy workshop unless you have a trained supervisor.”

 

Marius’ expression shifted from one of confusion, to one of realization. He sighed, looking at the floor for a second before looking back at Gustave, with his arms crossed. “You found out I have autism, didn’t you?”

 

Gustave wasn’t sure whether to answer. He gave in anyways. “Y-yes, I found out.”

 

The next thing to come from Marius was a chuckle. Gustave was expecting an angry response. 

 

“Look, Doc,” he began. “I have autism, that’s true. However I’m perfectly fine on my own and I can do my own things. I just want you to know that just because I’m on the spectrum doesn’t change who I am.”

 

Gustave frowned, realizing that even with the condition, Marius didn’t change. He sighed, rubbing his neck out of embarrassment. “I… sorry for the reaction then Marius.”

 

“Not to worry friend,” Marius smiled back. “I only know that it’s just the mother bird in you, trying to watch out for everyone.”

 

“Mother bird? Is that what people call me.”

 

“Perhaps I’ve said too much,” Marius grinned. “I suspect you’ve read Dr. Gorman’s notes, about my case.”

 

“Yes, that’s how I found out. I usually skip over reading the records of everyone but it caught my eye,” Gustave admitted. “I researched everything I could to help you live more comfortably here.”

 

“I appreciate the sentiment, Doc, I really do,” Marius put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s how the others acted too, but once I’ve told them that Dr. Gorman’s therapy sessions really helped me push away the symptoms, they eased.”

 

“Therapy?”

 

“Yes, didn’t you read the notes about my progression?”

 

“I…” Gustave blushed under his olive skin. “I only read the first paragraph.”

 

“That explains it,” Marius laughs. “The others were like that too.”

 

“Others? Who else knows?”

 

“The GSG-9, Six, and some of the others, scattered between the units,” He answered. “I plan on telling everyone eventually.”

 

Gustave huffed, smiling as he grabbed his hand. “You’re a damn good friend, Marius. I hope nothing changes.”

 

“We all have to change eventually Doc,” he smirks, letting go of his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, need to tune up my ADS!”

 

With that, Marius jogged his way back to the workshop. Gustave sighed and placed his hands down his coat’s pockets, making his own way back to the office. 

 

Maybe I should read the entire report instead of a paragraph next time, he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed. I’m hoping that my portrayal of an autistic person is respectable, please tell me how I should approach it better for future chapters :)
> 
> Leave suggestions or requests on your Headcanons about the operators down below. Next up, Frost!


	3. IQ laughs too much

Headcanon: IQ has an obnoxiously ugly laugh and is easily entertained. Blitz is always the culprit. They manage to solve it.

 

^^^

 

Blitz always set IQ off during missions and for almost three years, all every operators have to suffer through it. First it started out as a innocent dad joke or maybe a semi-clever pun, but every time IQ laughed her damn ass off for a full five minutes. That didn’t help that most of the time this happened during mission.

 

Any operator on the team could tell you, hearing the equivalent of a donkey laughing hoarsely over the comms didn’t help anyone. Blitz never apologized, in fact he most people assumed that he did it on purpose, thinking her laugh was horribly funny. Doc was the one to propose “laugh therapy”, to train her to hold back her laughter.

 

The whole thing only lasted ten minutes. A simple pun that Bandit told was enough to keep her going for a solid ten minutes. After that, they made sure to use less clever jokes. That wasn’t enough to contain the laughter of hers. When all else failed, a stern talking from Six came to fruition.

 

“Monika, you need to keep your laughter to a minimum,” she coolly said, keeping the whole meeting at the least amount of time possible. “We’ve got too many complaints from operators. It also affects your mission quality. The others can’t focus if all they hear is your laughing.”

 

“I-I know Six,” She stammered. Any meeting with Six was one that drew nervousness from even the most grizzled operators. Only Thatcher and Capitão are the ones who spoke to her as if she were an old friend. “I can’t help myself, not that Elias keeps egging me by telling those stupid jokes before we go in.”

 

“So Elias is the problem?”

 

“No, just his jokes.”

 

Six pondered for a moment before dismissing Monika. “You’re excused Ms. Weiss. I’ll see you another time.”

 

“Thank you ma’am,” she nodded, getting up and leaving her office.

 

The mission was simple. Take out several tangos in a sewage treatment plant in the Great Lakes, prevent the terrorists from causing an environmental disaster. It’ll play smoothly, no need for casualties for a low level sweep and clear.

 

Monika frowned when she noticed that Blitz stayed relatively quiet. The normally cheerful and joyous man took a turn down to meloncholyville. Everyone else didn’t seem to notice or pay attention, which was strange. This must be something that Six set up. Her nickname isn’t IQ for nothing, she’s a smart girl.

 

She leaned next to Finka, who looked away at the window of the helicopter. “Hey, is Blitz a little off?”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“I don’t know, he seems a little…  _ down _ , you know? He normally isn’t this quiet.”

 

Finka scoffed. “He’s better this way then.”

 

“Maybe you should ask me next time,” Blitz said, holding his shield defensively. “I would tell you.”

 

“I’m sorry—“

 

“Thirty seconds to drop,” the helicopter pilot called out. “The light is green.”

 

“Alright everyone, keep it clean and orderly. No need for heroics!” Blitz said, kicking down the ropes as the plane made a sudden stop. “Keep close and focus!”

 

One by one the team slid down the rope, landing safely on the helicopter pad below.

 

The mission was another success. No civilian casualties, all White Masks were eliminated, and the treatment plant was secured and safe. Everyone took to hanging around the police force, resting and taking breaks before their exfil. IQ noticed that Blitz wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She began to get worried.

 

She approached Buck, who leaned against an armored truck sipping some type of drink. “Hey Buck, have you seen Blitz anywhere? Can’t seem to find him.”

 

Buck shrugged, sipping his styrofoam cup. “Can’t say I have, though I did see him leaning towards the sewage canals. Mind your nose though.”

 

IQ nodded and thanked him, heading over to where the waste entered the water. It was a large, smelly river, but sucked it up and breathed in. IQ nearly gagged but she stayed strong. Just leaning over the rail, Blitz looked down at the river deep in thought. Maybe it was best not to disturb him.

 

But he was so depressing to see. Building up the courage she walked over to him and leaned against the rail, watching the river ooze it’s smelly waters. She took up a spot next to him, not saying a word. IQ noticed that he wasn’t wearing his helmet or mask, something he didn’t take off until he reached the base. Wearing the mask would’ve at least made the smell less noticeable.

 

“So, you found me.” He began, not looking at her.

 

“What’s up with you Elias?” She started, looking angry. “Is there something bothering you. You can tell me because we’re friends.”

 

“Really, can a friend just let me act like a mope all day?”

 

“That’s why I’m checking up on you,” she said. “What’s wrong.”

 

“I don’t know, everything has been a little  _ shitty _ recently,” Blitz bemoaned. “Feeling crappy overall.”

 

IQ raised an eyebrow. 

 

“I guess I’ve been feeling a bit down in the dumps, y’know? Like the whole world just uses me and flushed me away.” When he turned to look at her, IQ saw the biggest shit-eating grin. “You can practically just smell it off me right now.”

 

It registered instantly. This was just a setup for his stupid puns. And for some reason, she didn’t even feel the urge to smile. Instead, she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, sighing from the plot that was making Blitz cracking up. “I can’t believe you didn’t laugh! You always laugh.”

 

“Did Six put you up to this?” Was her only response. Blitz could tell she was  _ very _ mad. 

 

“Yes and no, it was a joint plan. I bet I cured you of your laughing anyways. I mean, I know that my jokes are gold, but sometimes you get carried away.”

 

“ _ Oh mein gott _ …” she muttered. Retreating back to the others, she ignored Blitz’ attempts to try to make her at least smile. After that mission, she never laughed at Blitz’ jokes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Who should I do next? Leave a comment below.


End file.
